American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U. S. Military History

S
ECOND-GUESSED
O
ne day, the Army asked for a sniper overwatch for a 506th
convoy that was coming into base.
I went out with a small team and we took down a three- or four-
story building. I set up in the top floor and started watching the
area. Pretty soon the convoy headed down the road. As I was
watching the area, a man came out of a building near the road and
began maneuvering in the direction the convoy was going to take.
He had an AK.
I shot him. He went down.
The convoy continued through. A bunch of other Iraqis came out

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and gathered around the guy I’d shot, but nobody that I could see
made any threatening motions toward the convoy or looked to be in
a position to attack it, so I didn’t fire.
A few minutes later, I heard on the radio that the Army is
sending a unit out to investigate why I shot him.
Huh?
I had already told the Army command on the radio what had
happened, but I got back on the radio and repeated it. I was
surprised—they didn’t believe me.
A tank commander came out and interviewed the dead man’s
wife. She told them her husband was on his way to the mosque
carrying a Koran.
Uh-huh. The story was ridiculous, but the officer—whom, I’m
guessing, hadn’t been in Iraq very long—didn’t believe me. The
soldiers began to look around for the rifle, but by that time so many
people had been in the area that it was long gone.
The tank commander pointed out my position. “Did it come from
there?”
“Yes, yes,” said the woman, who, of course, had no idea where
the shot had come from, since she hadn’t been anywhere nearby. “I
know he’s Army, because he’s wearing an Army uniform.”
Now, I was two rooms deep, with a screen in front of me,
wearing a gray jacket over my SEAL camis. Maybe she
hallucinated in her grief, or maybe she just said whatever she
thought would give me grief.

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We were recalled to base and the entire platoon put on stand-
down. I was told I was not “operationally available”—I was
confined to base while the 506th investigated the incident further.
The colonel wanted to interview me. My officer came with me.
We were all pissed. The ROEs had been followed; I had plenty
of witnesses. It was the Army “investigators” who had screwed up.
I had trouble holding my tongue. At one point, I told the Army
colonel, “I don’t shoot people with Korans—I’d like to, but I
don’t.” I guess I was a little hot.
Well, after three days and God only knows how much other
“investigation,” he finally realized that it had been a good kill and
dropped the matter. But when the regiment asked for more
overwatches, we told them to 
....
off.
“Any time I shoot someone, you’re just going to try and have me
executed,” I said. “No way.”
We were heading home in two weeks anyway. Aside from a few
more DAs, I spent most of that time playing video games, watching
porn, and working out.
I
finished that deployment with a substantial number of confirmed
sniper kills. Most happened in Fallujah.
Carlos Norman Hathcock II, the most famous member of the
sniping profession, a true legend and a man whom I look up to,
tallied ninety-three confirmed kills during his three years of tours in
the Vietnam War.

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I’m not saying I was in his class—in my mind, he was and
always will be the 
greatest
sniper ever—but in sheer numbers, at
least, I was close enough for people to start thinking I’d done a hell
of a job.

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